


Believer

by MoonlightBrunette



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, F/M, Lots of OCs - Freeform, Post-Blight, Slightly Altered Timeline, Slow Burn, slightly AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-03-11 09:45:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13521639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightBrunette/pseuds/MoonlightBrunette
Summary: The wonderful and talented bohemiantea wrote the incredible ficVigilancewhich has a character named Falke in it. I may or may not have developed an incredible thirst for said character, and wrote my own AU fic about him (I totally did, and this is it). You don't have to read Vigilance to understand this fic, but you are missing out on one hell of a well written and deeply researched story if you don't.~~This is the story of two Grey Wardens sent to Ferelden during the Blight Thaw. They both have their own personal things to deal with, and eventually they will fall in love and deal with everything that comes with those feelings as well. Add in darkspawn and travel and other Wardens, and mix well for lots of fun times.The timeline is slightly altered - in this world the Blight started in the summer of 9:30 and ended in the autumn of 9:32. I am also usingthis non-canon Ferelden mapmade byleliaanaaon tumblr.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Vigilance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9694040) by [bohemiantea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bohemiantea/pseuds/bohemiantea). 



Erianth leaned on the ship’s rail, filling her lungs with the tang of cold salt air. The wind pulled at her cloak insistently, pushing it away from her body and chilling her skin. They would arrive in Denerim in a few hours, with enough daylight left to secure rooms and find dinner. She was looking forward to sleeping in a real bed once more, though the hammock below deck wasn’t the most terrible way to pass a night. She had definitely slept in worse situations, and probably would again. Being a Grey Warden certainly wasn’t a life of leisure, but it was better than Kinloch. As far as she was concerned, being free trumped a soft bed and hot meals. She leaned forward a bit further and took another deep breath of sea air, as though punctuating the thought.

“Thinking of going for a swim?” Baryn joined her at the rail, leaning sideways and looking out over the water. The wind pushed at her as well, ruffling her short hair and making some of it stand on end before releasing it again.

“Absolutely. I imagine it would be an invigorating experience,” Erianth turned to look at the dwarven woman, who flashed her a smile. “Imagine the stories you could tell the other Wardens.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ve all got a few tales to tell each other.”

Erianth nodded. She had been on the ship a few days longer than Baryn. She boarded in Val Royeaux, spending a day at the Warden fortress in Jader while the ship docked to exchange goods and passengers. Baryn met her there, and they traveled together towards Denerim. There were more Wardens heading there as well; they all had orders to meet in the Gnawed Noble on 10th Guardian.

“So, when we get to the city, should we get rooms first or try to find the other Wardens?”

“I don’t know about you, but I’d love to take a bath and change clothes before we find anyone,” Erianth replied, touching the long braid hanging down her left side. She slid her hand higher, brushing her fingers along the bangs that hung limply down her forehead, groaning inwardly. She knew she looked a mess, and she certainly felt like one. “We’re also a day early, so there may not be anyone to find.”

“A bath sounds wonderful, now that you mention it,” Baryn sighed, running her hands over her rumpled clothes. “I’ve got several days worth of sea and salt to wash away.” Baryn moved away from the edge, leaning on some crates closer to the mast. “Have you ever been to Denerim before?”

“No,” she replied, pulling herself up straight and turning towards the middle of the ship. The wind wrapped her cloak around her body now, and she pulled the edges together in an attempt to keep it from becoming a bother. “Though I was born and raised in Ferelden, and it feels good to be heading back.”

“I understand that. I can’t imagine a posting in Val Royeaux being anything other than torture,” Baryn grinned.

“Oh Maker, you have no idea,” she huffed, and returned the smile. “Thankfully Orlais has access to a lot of interesting reading material, and wonderful Antivan wine.”

“I’m not much for the reading material, but I’m always happy for some good drink,” Baryn laughed.

“That I can provide,” she answered, glancing back out across the expanse of blue water. “Once we’re settled in I’ll gladly share some of my selection with you. For now I think it best that we gather our things and prepare to depart; Denerim can’t be far off.”

With a nodded agreement Baryn stood up and headed below deck. Erianth followed her down the ladder before heading off in the direction of her belongings. She had been living in a small but furnished apartment provided for her in Val Royeaux, so there hadn’t much for her to do before she left. She had packed the things she couldn’t bear to leave behind, and gifted or sold the things she wouldn’t need.

She had been tapped to spend the next year or so helping with the Thaw in Ferelden, both because she was already close and because it was her home. She knew Warden-Constable Sayer had played a part in getting her this posting; it was the last thing he could do for her before…

She shook her head, refusing to think about it. Sayer had been the one to recruit her from Kinloch, and turn her into the Warden she was today. She owed much to him, and she couldn’t allow herself to think about where he might be now. It was her own inevitable end, and she hoped she could make him proud before she met it.

Kneeling down and arranging her things carefully, she pulled out a skin of watered wine and drank a few swallows. There were two large packs, one for clothes and one for her other belongings. She had sold a portion of her wardrobe; the last thing she wanted to do was walk around Ferelden dressed like an Orlesian. She had kept all of her wonderfully soft linens, several pairs of warm wool socks and a handful of thick, pretty ribbons she could use as garters. Three dresses, cut in sensible styles that would suit her well when she didn’t want to walk around in full leather and padding. A couple casual outfits, just in case. Her armor was packed neatly into a crate stamped with her name and title, her staff leaning on the wooden bulkhead next to it.

She rose, lifting the now familiar weapon with ease. Even in the dim light of the hold she could see the runes carefully etched into the metal, vanishing under the protective leather wrappings before reappearing on the other side. She ran her fingers up the haft, to touch the points that branched off the metal loop that made up the top of the staff.

 

_“Erianth!”_

_Sayer’s voice through the door - she placed a stiff ribbon between the pages of her book and quickly crossed the room to let him in. He was holding something outside the door frame; he made her close her eyes and retreat several steps back into her apartment before coming inside._

_“How many fingers am I holding up?” he asked, and she could hear the smile in his voice._

_“One?” She knew it was three; it was always three._

_“Wrong!” he laughed. “It’s three.”_

_She laughed then too, despite herself._

_“How long are you going to leave me standing here with my eyes closed?”_

_She could hear the sounds of him moving about the room; shutting the door, setting something on the small table by the window, closing her book and setting it on the stack currently taking up residence on the second chair._

_“Now, I know you had chosen a staff that you were satisfied with when you left Kinloch,” he said, from somewhere behind her. “I’m sure it’s a fine weapon that would get you through, but I wanted something better for you.”_

_He took her wrist, moving it out in front of her. Her fingers brushed against something smooth and cool; reflexively she wrapped her hand around it and slowly opened her eyes. In her grasp was the most beautiful staff she had ever seen. It gleamed silver, and she could feel the power flowing between it and herself, a barely contained magical current practically begging to burst forth from them both._

_“How?” she choked out, attempting to breathe deeply in a futile bid to stem the tide of tears welling in her eyes. She looked to him then, his smile brighter than even the staff as it reflected the sunlight streaming in through her windows._

_“Magic?” he smirked, moving to stand in front of her. “I chose the sun as a representation of your faith, and because you're a bright force in this world. It’s made of silverite, and enchanted with runes to increase your elemental powers. I brought some quality leather wrappings we can add as well, to protect your hands. Do you like it?”_

_She blinked several times, allowing the tears to spill from her eyes and run down her cheeks._

_“It’s incredible,” she breathed, swinging it slightly back and forth as she held it up in front of herself, watching the stylised sunburst at the top catch the light as it moved. “This must have cost a fortune, Sayer. You really shouldn’t have.”_

_“Bah, the cost is irrelevant. You needed something worthy of your talents, and now you have it.” He affected an elderly voice as he continued. “Harrowed at 14 you know? Devastatingly clever girl, but prone to a bit of trouble, if you don’t mind me saying so. Strong mage though. Gifted.”_

_Erianth burst out laughing, swinging the staff wide as she wrapped Sayer in a hug._

_“First Enchanter Irving doesn’t even sound like that,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “‘Devastatingly clever’,” she quoted at him. “I’m quite sure he said nothing of the sort.”_

_She pulled back from him and he patted her cheek, wiping away a few tears with his thumb._

_“You deserve to have something nice, something that belongs to you alone. Something to remember me by when I’m not with you,” his voice was quieter now, his smile a bit more sad than it had previously been. He lowered his hand to her shoulder._

_She looked down at the floor, a fresh wave of tears beginning to threaten._

_“As if I could forget you.” She lifted her eyes back to his face, smiled at him again. “You are my teacher, my mentor, and my friend.” She gazed at the staff once more, lightly brushing her fingers along the points of the sun. “It’s perfect.”_

_“I’m glad,” he smiled at her in return._

 

Erianth leaned back against the wooden side of the ship, wiping the tears from her eyes and face with both hands. She took a few deep breaths before straightening her cloak and gathering her things into neat stacks. When the ship docked in Denerim, she would be ready.


	2. Chapter 2

The Gnawed Noble was filled with people when Falke and his companions walked in. He looked around, hoping to spot the other two Wardens that were to join them. He shuffled a bit to get a better view, but couldn’t see anyone of interest. The Senior Warden, Lucion, headed toward the bar, while the other two Wardens made to move for a table. Falke followed them, pulling up a chair to await Lucion’s return.

He listened to his fellow Wardens talk about nothing of consequence. The weather, the travel, light topics with little chance to offend. His eyes watched for the familiar blue that would herald the arrival of another Warden. He was glad at least that it was warm inside; he didn’t like the frigid chill in the air here in Ferelden. A motion at the door drew his attention, and he turned in his chair a bit for a better view. Two small figures were standing just inside, the cold wind rushing in behind them. The taller one was hooded in a long blue cloak, the bottom swirling in the dying gusts. The smaller figure was also wearing a cloak; this one drab and grey. They were speaking to each other, the smaller figure gesturing with their hands. The larger figure pulled down her hood and chuckled at whatever had been said, before glancing around the room.

Falke could see at once that she was very pretty. Her dark eyes caught his, and she smiled. She motioned to her companion, who also glanced his way. He saw now that the smaller figure was a woman as well; a dwarf if he wasn’t mistaken. The dwarven woman said something else to the elf, who glanced back towards the table again quickly while covering her mouth to keep from laughing too loudly. The women removed their cloaks, revealing Warden armor underneath. _Here are our Wardens then._ He reached out with his Warden sense, but the group was too large for him to really discern between them all.

He looked at them again, taking note of the armor they wore. The dwarf had a warrior’s set much like his own, but the elf’s was different. Lighter. _A mage_ , he surmised. Lucion came back then, a serving woman trailing behind with a tray full of tankards. She placed them all down, and Lucion waved her away. Everyone grabbed a tankard, the talk stilling as they busied themselves with drinking. He took one as well, feigning sips. The two female Wardens joined the table, the elven woman folding her cloak over the back of her chair while the dwarf bundled hers into her lap. She took the seat next to him, the elven woman on her right hand side. They each helped themselves to the remaining tankards, drinking deeply. He could see the elven woman’s eyes taking them all in, her glances carefully concealed as she drank.

“Now that we are all here, let’s get introductions out of the way,” Lucion said, placing his hands on the table and leaning forward. “I’m Senior Warden Lucion, I’ll be in charge of this operation. Our task is to travel through Ferelden, clearing out any traces of darkspawn and helping people rebuild after the Blight. We have provisions enough for six Wardens, and coin enough to keep us well stocked for the next year at least. We will be crossing through the Bannorn, parts of the Brecilian Forest, the Southron Hills, and the Hinterlands. We will scout for recruits at Kinloch Hold, Redcliffe, and various other small villages & alienages. When it has been determined that we have fulfilled our assignment, you will all be released to whichever Warden stronghold you came from.”

Lucion spoke with a heavy Orlesian accent, his words short and to the point. He looked at them all in turn as he spoke, his golden brown eyes assessing them each before moving to the next.

“This is Warden Corbett,” he indicated the man to his right, continuing on in a circle around the table. “Warden Livia, Warden Falke, Warden…” He held his hand towards the dwarven woman, waiting for her to supply her name.

“Warden Baryn,” she offered, and he nodded.

“Warden Erianth,” he smiled warmly at the elven woman. “I’m glad to see you again.”

She inclined her head and returned his smile. “It’s nice to see you again as well, Warden Lucion.”

Though she spoke with a more refined Ferelden accent, there was no mistaking the Orlesian inflection in the way she pronounced Lucion’s name.

“I’m going to settle the last of our accounts here and then we’ll be on our way. If any of you have anything left to gather, do it now.” He looked pointedly at the two newest Wardens, who appeared to have no packs or weapons with them. With that, he walked back to the bar.

“We’ll gather our things and meet you all outside.” This from the woman to the far right, Warden Erianth. She stood, swirling her cloak around her shoulders, and left with the dwarf at her side.

 

***

 

Falke found himself standing outside again, the frigid wind pushing its way through his cloak, through his armor and padding, down into his very bones. He wrapped his thin woolen cloak around himself tightly, a futile attempt to hold onto whatever warmth he still had. Wardens Erianth and Baryn were back, strapping packs onto the two horses they would be taking with them. His earlier guess at her being a mage was proven correct; she had a staff with a large stylized sunburst at the top currently slipped through a slot in her cloak and fastened somehow inside, against her back. The dwarven woman had much the same set up, with a heavy war hammer in place of a staff.

He watched as Corbett moved around in front of the horse Erianth was currently working with, strapping down her packs in preparation for their departure. The man placed his hand on the horse’s neck, and casually leaned in towards the elven Warden.

“Need any help with that, _ma petite lapin_?”

Falke tensed immediately, his hands balling into tight fists around the edges of his cloak. He knew that word, _lapin_. ‘Rabbit’. He wasn’t naive enough to think people never said things like that, but to hear it from a Warden…

Erianth stilled, shifting her weight. She turned her head slightly, barely enough to look at Corbett.

 _“Va te faire enculer_ ,” she replied, her voice sweet and light. She tilted her head slightly, then resumed securing her things.

Falke repeated her words in his head, trying to parse out what she had said in response  to Corbett’s slur. It was no use - spoken languages were harder for him to translate, and the cold was making it difficult to concentrate. He couldn’t understand why she had sounded so sweet; did she not understand what had been said to her?

 _“Chienne_!” Corbett spat, practically shouting the word. The horse danced sideways, nervous at the sudden volume in the man’s voice. Corbett pulled himself up to his full height, the casual lean abandoned in his anger. He stood nearly a head taller than she, and he was clearly attempting to intimidate her with his size.

Erianth gave the man a wary look; Falke took a step toward them both. He still wasn’t quite sure what that entire exchange had been about, but he had understood when Corbett called her a bitch. He would involve himself if necessary; Warden or not the man had no right to speak to her the way he did.

 _“Ça suffit!_ ” Lucion’s voice was sharp and loud. Corbett took several steps back from Erianth, ending up close to where Falke was standing. He was muttering under his breath and glaring at where the brunette elf was tying off the last of the leather straps holding the packs in place. She finished, and turned towards the rest of the group, her face a pleasant mask.

“You, up front with me,” Lucion pointed to Corbett. “You and you,” this was to Baryn and Livia, “take the middle. You two,” he indicated Erianth and Falke. “Each of you grab a lead and bring up the rear with the horses.”

His orders given, Lucion strode towards the city gates, leaving the rest of the Wardens to scramble to their places in his wake.

Falke took the last few steps to close the distance between himself and where Warden Erianth stood with the horses. She glanced at him as he passed, grabbing a lead and setting forth to follow the group. He barely heard her sigh over the sounds of tack jangling as the horses began to move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ma petite lapin - my little rabbit  
> Va te faire enculer - go fuck yourself  
> Chienne - bitch  
> Ça suffit - that's enough


	3. Chapter 3

They had been walking for hours, mostly in silence. A majority of the excitement Erianth had been feeling for this endeavor was gone, leaving behind an empty ache. She missed her apartment, full of books and warm sunlight. She missed spending time in the Summer Bazaar, drinking coffee with Sayer at the Le Masque du Lion Café while discussing her latest research.

Mostly she was torn about a return to Kinloch Hold. Lucion had said it was a destination, but he hadn’t specified when. She had heard the stories about what happened there during the Blight, but how much of it was the truth? She worried for her friends.  _ How many lived? _

She sighed deeply, trying to clear away her morose thoughts. Looking ahead, she noticed  how spread out their small group had become. Livia in front of her, close enough to get her attention if Erianth raised her voice. Baryn a bit to the left of the tall, well-muscled Marcher woman. Erianth thought of the whispered confession in the doorway of the Gnawed Noble; Baryn thought Livia was gorgeous, and had already started thinking of ways to get to know her better. The memory brought a small smile to her face. The days they had spent traveling together had been pleasant, and she considered Baryn a friend.

She could see Lucion in the distance, his orange-red hair shining even in the weak afternoon sun. A slightly taller, darker head of hair walking next to him - Corbett.

“Void take that fool,” she muttered to herself. 

“I’m sorry?” 

She glanced at the man leading the other horse. He was looking questioningly at her. 

“It’s nothing,” she said, shaking her head. “Just...thinking out loud.”

_Warden_ _Falke._ He was turned away from her again, gazing out into the trees that surrounded the road. She looked at him fully, assessing him while his attention was elsewhere. He was a bit taller than her, with broad shoulders and a seemingly muscular build, though the armor made it hard for her to tell. White-blonde hair and light brown skin told of time spent in the sun. She wondered if either would fade in dreary Ferelden. 

“It’s going to snow,” she commented idly, attempting to fill the silence. The sky had a soft, grey hue to it, like someone had pulled wool over its entirety. “It’s going to snow a lot.”

“How do you know?” he lifted his face toward the sky. “Is that something your people can do? Predict the weather?”

“My people?” she slowed, turning to face him fully. “You mean mages?”

He looked back at her, then turned his gaze quickly to the ground. She could see a flush coloring his face, making his scars stand out whitely against his reddened skin. 

_ Oh. _

“You mean elves,” she said it slowly, hoping she had possibly read his expression wrong. The fact that his face was turning a deep scarlet and he was actively avoiding her eyes told her she hadn’t. “I’m not Dalish you know.”

“I’m sorry?” he was looking at her now, though his face was still incredibly red.

“I’m not Dalish,” she repeated, trying to keep her tone even. “I couldn’t tell you if they know how to predict the weather, because I’ve never met any. There’s more than one type of elf in Thedas.”

“I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.” He looked completely mortified, and she felt herself soften.

“Look, it’s fine. I’m sure you didn’t mean any offense.” She tugged gently on the lead, bidding the horse to move forward once more. “It’s been a rough morning.”

He hesitated, then fell into step beside her. “I did not mean to contribute to your day’s roughness.”

She huffed, looking at him sideways. “The clouds are why I know it’s going to snow. When they are all one thick grey layer like that…” she waved her free hand upward in an arc meant to encompass the sky. “It means it’s going to snow. Heavily, from the looks of it.”

He said something then, too quietly for her to hear. She waited to see if he would say anything more, or if he would repeat himself, but he did neither. 

“Pardon?”

“I’ve never seen snow before,” he said sheepishly. He glanced at her, his face taking on a now familiar pink hue. 

She tried not to laugh, unsuccessfully. The noise she made was a strange combination of sigh and moan, and his face reddened more as a result. “You must come from somewhere much warmer than Ferelden,” she smiled, hoping to put him a bit more at ease.

“The Anderfels, actually.” 

“Oh, interesting. I haven’t looked too much into that part of Thedas, if I’m being completely honest. I’ve seen a few sculptures though. Breathtaking. I’ve heard much about the art from your lands.” She knew she was rambling, but his blush had started to fade and so she continued on. “The Warden fortress is there as well, correct? I’ve never seen Weisshaupt, but I’ve come across pictures of it in books. Seems fairly majestic, from what I can tell. Anyway, snow isn’t anything too incredible really. It’s much like rain, just...lighter. Softer. Colder.”

“Colder?” He looked worried. “It gets colder than this?”

She did laugh that time. The sound of it carried, and Baryn looked back at them. Erianth gave her a small wave, which she returned with a sly smile before turning forward again. 

“Oh yes, much colder. Wintersend may have come and gone, but this is  _ Ferelden _ . Spring weather won’t touch these lands until mid-Drakonis, at best.” She smiled wistfully, growing excited at the prospect of seeing snow again after so many years in Val Royeaux. “This time tomorrow everything will be covered in snow. It will even be cold enough to see your breath in the air.” 

She looked at him again, a pleased smile on her lips. Falke looked horrified. He was staring at her, mouth agape. She stopped walking, which caused the horse to bump her shoulder with its muzzle. 

“Are you alright?” she was genuinely concerned at his reaction. Gone was the shy blush under bronzed skin, his face now ashen. “Warden Falke?” She moved toward him, which seemed to break his daze. His eyes met hers, an attractive shade of light grey-blue.  _ This isn’t the time to notice such things _ , she silently chided herself. 

He took a step back, as though he had suddenly realized how closely they were standing. “I am...yes. I am alright. Thank you.” He still looked as though he may be sick at any moment. 

“Did you need some water?” she asked, indicating a skin secured to her belt. “Or maybe something stronger?”

“No. No, I am fine now,” he said, running a hand over his face. 

She retreated back a few paces, wanting to give him the space he needed. She debated whether or not humor would go amiss in the moment; He still seemed out of sorts. She glanced up the road, seeing that the rest of the Wardens were getting fairly far ahead. She shifted her weight, debating. “We should keep moving, unless you’re wanting to be left behind here with me?”

His eyes snapped up to hers, the adorable blush returning in force. She gave him a smile, pulling the horse’s lead as she picked up a brisk pace. She had no idea what had gotten into him just then, but figured she had time to dwell on it while they walked. 


	4. Chapter 4

“This time tomorrow everything will be covered in snow. It will even be cold enough to see your breath in the air.” She was smiling at him. A genuine, beautiful smile. 

He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help it. Everything covered in snow. He couldn’t begin to imagine it. He didn’t even know what snow looked like. _Colder._ She said it would be colder. He wasn’t prepared for it to get any colder than this. He was barely prepared for how cold it was now. He was going to look like a fool in front of everyone. He should have researched more.  _ Fool, fool, fool. _

Erianth had moved forward; she was directly in front of him now. His eyes focused, looked into hers. In the dim light of the tavern he had thought they were a shade of brown, but in the natural light he could see that was wrong. They were a deep green, reminiscent of the sharp, needle-like leaves of the trees that grew here. 

“Are you alright?” 

The look of concern on her face brought him back to the here and now. He realized that he was staring into her eyes while she stood less than an arm’s length from him and stepped back immediately. “I am...yes. I am alright. Thank you.” 

“Did you need some water?” she asked, drawing his attention to her waist. 

He forced his eyes away from her body, looking instead into the forest. “No. No, I am fine now.” He ran a hand over his face.  _ Maker knows what she must think of me. _

“We should keep moving, unless you’re wanting to be left behind here with me?”

His gaze snapped back to her face, embarrassment at her suggestion setting his skin ablaze. She seemed not to notice, instead smiling at him and resuming her brisk pace from earlier.  _ Joking, _ he realized.  _ She was joking. _ He ran a hand down his face again, trying to put his mind back to rights. He felt like a fumbling child, saying and doing all the wrong things. This was not going at all the way he thought it would. Hopefully they would come across a town, or a village, somewhere he could buy himself a warmer cloak at least. Perhaps a couple more blankets. 

Unfortunately for him, that was not to be. After most of the day spent walking, they left the road and found a decent place to spend the night. He helped Lucion unpack the horses while the other Wardens set to assembling camp. Tents were constructed, a fire was started, and possessions were sorted. Wardens Baryn and Livia were stowing their things in the middle tent, while Senior Warden Lucion was arranging his space in the far tent. Falke took stock of what he had brought with him while the others moved around camp. A woolen blanket, two changes of underclothes, an extra linen shirt, a sketchbook and some charcoal, and various items to care for his armor and weapon. It wasn’t much, but it was everything he had thought he would need. He had some coin from the stipend they gave him before he left Weisshaupt; he would have to make it stretch as best he could. 

The sound of Erianth’s voice drew his attention. 

“If you please,” she said, trying to move around where Corbett was blocking her path.  She had a pack slung over her shoulder, and was holding another against her chest.

“There’s no need to be in such a hurry,” Corbett drawled, running his hand down her arm. 

Falke watched her take a step back in an attempt put herself out of Corbett’s reach. He quickly put his things back into his pack and stood up, ready to intervene if necessary. 

“Come now  _ ma chérie _ , Corbett cajoled, reaching for her again. “We can share a tent, I can keep you warm…”

“She asked you to leave her be,” Falke said calmly, coming up behind Erianth. “You should do as she requests.”

Corbett moved forward instead, shoving Erianth into him. He caught her arms, keeping her upright as her packs shifted from the sudden force. 

“Fine,” he snarled at Falke. “You like this bitch so much, you share a tent with her.” Corbett strode off, muttering to himself in Orlesian. 

“Maker’s blood,” Erianth hissed. 

She shifted her weight against his body to regain her balance, and he realized he still had his hands on her arms. He helped her to stand upright, taking the pack from her grasp while he did so. 

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“Are you alright?” 

She gave a short, irritated sigh. “It’s fine. He’s not the first to try…” She gave him a sad little smile and shrugged. “I’m sorry you’ve been placed in the middle.” 

“I placed myself in the middle because I wanted to,” he replied. “He should listen when you say no.”

She smiled again, more genuine this time. “Well, I guess we’re bunk mates tonight,” she said breezily, turning back towards the last tent. 

He froze. “I’m sorry?”

“Bunk mates?” She turned around, brows raised. “Two to a tent, and you’ve basically claimed your spot with me after that.” She waved her hand towards the other side of camp, where Corbett was glaring at them. “You really didn’t need to do that, by the way. He’s going to target you as well now,” she said over her shoulder, resuming her course.

“Let him try,” he replied, following her to the tent.

She knelt down in front of it, taking the pack off her back and pushing it into the open flap. “Left or right?”

“What?”

“Do you prefer to sleep on the left side or the right? In the Circle we had bunks and everyone had a preference for top or bottom, though I never really cared as long as I had somewhere to sleep. I thought maybe you have a preference, so, left or right?”

“Left?” he said, handing down the pack he had taken from her earlier. 

She stowed it away with the other inside the tent, then reached out again. He stood there for a moment, looking at her outstretched hand, wondering what she wanted from him. She looked up, raising her open hand in an obvious gesture. 

“I don’t have anything else to hand to you.” 

“You didn’t bring anything?”

He slipped the pack off his back and placed the strap into her still outstretched hand. 

“This is it?” She looked at him in disbelief. “You don’t have another pack?”

He looked at her sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. He could feel his skin growing hot, a deep blush she was sure to notice. He resisted the urge to cover his face with his hand, instead looking away into the trees. 

“Ok. This isn’t the end of the world.” She stood up, still holding his pack. “We can make this work. We’ll have to figure out the watch rotation, but it’s likely we won’t both be out at the same time. I can put a small warmth charm on your cloak for your shift, which should be enough for a couple hours. It won’t last long though, I can’t enchant like that.” She had started to pace; a few steps away from him, turn, a few steps towards him, repeat. “I brought two blankets, since we’re already in the same tent together we can just share. Extra body heat never hurts anyway.” She stopped pacing then, looking at him brightly.

“Share?” he repeated.  _ Maker’s breath! Don’t panic, she’s trying to be kind. _ “Would that not be seen as extremely improper?” he said gently, desperately hoping she wouldn’t take offense.

She laughed, waved a hand dismissively. “I really don’t think anyone here is going to care. Unless you’d rather run the risk of freezing to death in your sleep?”

He inhaled deeply, averting his gaze from her face. The thought of sleeping close enough to her to share a blanket was making his heart pound. It was beyond inappropriate. She claimed no one would care but how could she be sure? The prospect of being colder than he was now didn’t appeal, but if that was his only choice…

“Warden Falke,” her voice broke into his thoughts. “If it’s that upsetting for you I can think of something else. Sharing is the most obvious idea, but I’m sure we can come up with a solution more palatable to you.” She was smirking, though there was no malice on her face. “I’ll lend you my heavier blanket, which will keep you quite warm. No sharing required.” She winked at him, and knelt down into the tent again.

“What about you? Won’t you be cold without it?” 

“I’ll be fine,” she was unrolling what must have been the blanket in question. “I can keep myself warm enough.”

“It is unfair for you to go without because of me,” he said, trying to steel himself against his growing panic. “I would rather share than have you be cold on my account.”

Erianth finished laying out blankets and leaned back onto her heels. “The look on your face at the suggestion is enough for me to know that’s not really an option.” She stood up and brushed the dirt from her knees. “I’m going to see about the watch rotation.”

He watched her go, guilt and shame filling his chest in equal measure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ma chérie - my sweet


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to [thedosianexplorer](http://thedosianexplorer.tumblr.com) for the mechanics behind charming objects with magic, and answering all the questions I posed on the subject.

The daylight was just starting to fade as she made her way over to Lucion. He was using a fallen tree as a makeshift bench, looking over the maps he had brought. 

“May I join you?” Erianth stood back a bit, giving herself the ability to retreat gracefully if he denied her.

“By all means,” he motioned to a spot next to him, which she took. “Something on your mind?”

“I wanted to ask about watch rotation, actually.”

“Ah.” His voice had a distinct Orlesian rhythm she found soothing as she listened to him lay out the rotation. With six people there would be four on watch every night, for two hours each. Everyone would get at least six hours of sleep, with eight hours in bed every few days. Any time they stopped in a village or town, everyone would get as much sleep as they wanted, provided they went to bed early enough.

Warden Falke wound up on first watch, which she thought worked out rather well. She had an hour to herself in the tent to read or pray, and still plenty of time to get undressed and under her covers without him making faces at her while she did so. 

“Thank you, Warden Lucion.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to you about something. Walk with me?”

“Of course.”

They walked a bit away from camp, out into the trees. She put her hands inside the pockets of her cloak, clever things designed to keep her hands warm while allowing her to pull the front closed around herself.

“When this undertaking was still in the planning stages, I received a letter. It seems someone close to you knew all about this little excursion, and wanted you to be included.”

“Sayer,” she breathed, as he nodded. 

“The very same. His letter was quite persuasive. Claimed you were one of the most talented healers he’d ever come across. ‘Exceptionally powerful’ he said. He made you out to be quite the mage indeed,” he grinned. 

“Well,” she exhaled nervously. “I hope he hasn’t set your expectations too high for me to meet.”

That caused him to stop walking, chuckling as he put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll do just fine Eria. Sayer was a fine man who had an eye for talent. That he recruited you at all speaks to your ability.”

“Thank you,” she smiled, trying to accept the praise gracefully.

“We’re lucky to have such a competent healer along. Darkspawn are ruthless and injuries are assured, so you will be invaluable to us all in the coming months.” He clapped her gently on the shoulder before dropping his hand to his side. 

“I will do everything in my power to keep everyone hale and whole.”

“I have no doubt,” Lucion replied. “I should get back and make sure everyone is settled so I can hand out these watch rotations. If you don’t mind, could you set some wards as backup?”

“Certainly.”

Lucion nodded at her, and she watched him walk back towards the camp. Spurred on by the rumbling of her stomach, she walked the perimeter, placing a shimmering glyph into the ground at regular intervals. Once she finished the circuit, she waved her hand and watched the glow fade until they were all indistinguishable from the ground in which they were set. Satisfied with her work, she headed towards the fire. She could see Falke sitting as close to the ring of small rocks as he possibly could, and frowned a little.  _ He must be freezing. _ She headed toward him, waving as she got closer and he looked up at her. 

“Mind if I sit with you?”

“No. No, of course not.” He moved back from the fire, pulling his cloak tighter around himself. 

“I would ask if you’re cold, but that seems redundant.” She lowered herself to the ground, sitting with her legs crossed. “I could warm you up, if you wanted.”

He made a choking sound, jerking his head sideways to look at her. His pale eyes were wide with alarm. “I beg your pardon?”

She laughed, loudly. The look of horror on his face should have been offensive, but the sheer level of innocence he displayed was almost endearing.

“Not like that,” she chuckled. “Give me your hand.” She stretched out her arm, flexing her fingers as invitation.

Hesitantly, he grasped her hand as lightly as possible. She laced her fingers through his, tilting both their hands sideways, thumbs on top. He was looking at her, his face nearly unreadable. She smiled, gave his hand a slight squeeze, and gently pushed a bit of warming magic toward him. She kept it light, not wanting to startle him.

“It will take a moment for you to really feel anything,” she explained, opening the flow of magic between them a bit more. “I don’t want to start off too quickly; you barely know me and I’ve no idea how much exposure you’ve had to mages.”  _ Not much, judging by his reaction. _

He nodded, swallowed hard. She offered him a reassuring smile, trying to put him at ease. Scaring people with magic was never something that ended in a mage’s favor. She could see when it started working; his body began to relax, the tight grip on his cloak loosening. 

“Better?”

“Much,” he sighed.

She held his hand for a bit longer, giving him as much heat as she could without overdoing it. When she gauged that he was sufficiently warm, she gave one last squeeze and let go.

“Thank you,” he said, settling his hands in his lap. 

“That’s what I’m here for,” she smiled. “You should give me your cloak. The longer I have to work on it, the warmer you’ll be on watch tonight.”

“Work on it?”

“Yes. As I said before, mages can’t enchant. All that lyrium, it’s too dangerous for us. Some mages can work small charms, changing an item for a short time. The longer we have to work the charm, the stronger it will be. Trying to do too much too quickly is exhausting, but if I can spread it out over hours or days, that’s more ideal.”

He had turned to her fully now, listening with rapt attention. “How does that work, charming an object? Could you charm anything you wanted to?”

“Who are we charming?” Baryn had come over to the fire as well, setting down a small cook pot and a bag full of vegetables. She pulled out a small knife and set to peeling and slicing, throwing the pieces worth keeping into the pot.

“Not who - what,” Eria replied, reaching over to claim a few vegetables of her own to work on. “Falke’s cloak is a bit lacking for Ferelden weather, so I’m going to help him a bit and make sure he stays warm enough while on watch. Speaking of,” she said, motioning to him. “Hand that over, would you?”

He reluctantly undid the clasp at his throat, attempting to fold the cloak into something easier to pass over. She took it from him, layering it down onto her lap. “I cannot charm whatever I want to, no. Some things just don’t take to charming, no matter how hard I might try.”

“Sounds like some people I know,” Baryn scoffed. 

“Sometimes things, much like people, can be stubborn.” She smiled at Baryn as she tossed a few of her own veggies in the cook pot, exchanging them for more unsliced produce. “As for how it works, that’s harder to explain. Basically I form an idea of what I want, hold it in my mind, and direct it into the object. I can pull a bit of the Fade with it, temporarily infusing the object with my will, and for a time it will function as I want it to. Without working lyrium into it, the effect won’t last. It’s nice for temporary use though, times such as tonight.”

Falke nodded, his features limned in firelight. He pulled up his knees, resting his crossed arms on them and looking into the dancing flames. She could see he was lost in thought, so she turned her attention inward. As she sliced carrots she remembered warm summer nights in Orlais, laying in sunny clearings as a child, drinking spiced wine by a roaring fireplace. She recalled a soft bed piled high with blankets, the hot press of a lover’s body, steam rising from a heated soaking tub.

Tossing the last of the sliced carrots into the pot, she closed her eyes and focused on gathering all those thoughts together. Layering them atop each other one by one, she reached out for the Fade. Pulling forth a small amount of magical energy, she twined everything together into one solid feeling of warmth. As she gathered Falke’s cloak into her hands, she let that feeling flow from herself, through her skin and into the fabric. 

“I saved you some dinner, if you’re hungry.”

Baryn’s voice broke into her thoughts, pulling her back into the present. 

“I’m sorry?”

“You seemed pretty deep into whatever you were doing there,” Baryn replied, motioning to the cloak resting in Eria’s lap. “We didn’t want to disturb you while you were all glowy like that.”

Eria looked down at her hands, absentmindedly tangled in the folds of fabric. The cloak still held a faint glow in the darkness. 

“I… thank you,” she said, reaching out for the bowl Baryn offered. 

“No problem,” Baryn said casually, handing her a spoon before sitting down beside her. “I’ve never seen anyone do something like that before.”

“It’s not uncommon among mages,” she said between bites. “Stick around long enough, I’m sure I can show you more things you’ve never seen.” She winked, and Baryn laughed. 

Eria finished her meal, cleaning the dishes before giving them back to Baryn with more thanks. She took the newly charmed cloak and set out to find Warden Falke. According to Livia, he had retired to the tent to read until his watch started. She made her way over, stopping before she entered.

“Warden Falke?” She placed her hand along the tent flap but didn’t move it aside. She could see the flickering light of a candle through the material, but wanted to avoid any potential embarrassment that could be caused by walking in unannounced.

“Yes,” he replied. “Come in.”

She pulled back the flap and ducked inside. He was sitting on the edge of his bedroll with her blanket wrapped around his shoulders, holding what appeared to be a sketchbook.

“Hello.”

“Hey,” she said, sitting down on her own bedroll. “I brought your cloak.” She held it out to him, both arms extended across the space between their makeshift beds. 

He set his things aside, careful not to bump the lit candle. Leaning forward slightly, he slid his hands between hers and shifted the fabric into his own lap. He studied the material as he moved it between his fingers, ostensibly looking for the clasp.

“It won’t look any different now,” she commented idly, unbuckling the straps of her gloves. “The glow has faded considerably.” She glanced up at him as she began pulling off her left glove. He was still inspecting the cloak, but stopped as soon as he realized she was looking. “You should put it on - charms start to fade almost immediately.” 

She pulled off her other glove, setting them both aside and starting on the straps of her boots. She watched him through her lashes as he did, letting her blanket slide down his back and clasping the cloak at his throat. She pulled off her boots, setting them at the end of her bedroll. She turned her body so she was on the bedroll properly, stretching out her legs and wiggling her toes. After wearing soft shoes for so much of her life, the stiff leather boots were still something she had to get used to. 

“I should go check on things,” Falke said. He had straightened the blanket and was moving towards the tent entrance. “Thank you for everything you’ve done today. It is appreciated.”

“Of course,” she replied lightly. “If the charm wears off too soon and you get cold again, feel free to wake me.”

He nodded, and headed out of the tent. She removed the rest of her armor, stacking it neatly next to her boots. She kept her cloak on, intending to use the enchantments it carried to keep her warm overnight. She covered herself with her extra blanket, and Falke’s blanket as well. The warm woolen blanket she had lent him had enchantments of its own, and would be all he’d need. Settling herself down on the bedroll, she curled up comfortably and blew out the candle. As she lay in the darkness she quietly recited some verses of the Chant, letting herself be lulled by the familiar rhythm of the words she’d memorized as a young child. She closed her eyes, waiting for the Fade to claim her, looking forward to finding those that dwelled within. 


	6. Chapter 6

Falke slowly came awake, blinking in the morning light. Shifting under the blanket, he pressed his warm hands to his cold face and moaned. _Perhaps I should have slept completely under the blanket._ A cursory glance around showed that Erianth was already up, her things packed and neatly piled near the entrance. He sat up, immediately regretting it when the heat of the bedroll was replaced with cold air. He hastily donned his armor, hoping to keep himself even a little warm. He packed his things as well, piling them next to Erianth’s, and made his way out of the tent.

The light outside was bright enough that he had to close his eyes, and he wondered momentarily just how long he had slept. Opening them again, he immediately wondered if he was perhaps still sleeping. The world around him was blanketed in layers of white as far as he could see. He huffed in disbelief, noticing that his breath left a visible mist in the air.

“Good morning!”

Turning his attention toward the voice, he saw Warden Erianth wave to him, an enthusiastic smile on her face.

“Pretty amazing right?” she said breathlessly, closing the distance between them. He watched as large flakes of snow fell onto her dark hair, lingering briefly before melting.

“I had no idea this kind of thing happened.” He looked down at the ground, noticing Erianth’s boots were covered in snow almost to her ankles. He shifted his weight, causing the snow to crunch underfoot.

“It happens all the time,” she said brightly, crouching down and gathering snow into her hands. He watched as she shaped it in her palms, brushing her gloved fingers along the outside until she held a perfectly shaped ball. “If you’re planning on breakfast you’d better go now. You know how it is traveling with Wardens,” she said, looking at him with raised brows.

He did as she suggested, helping himself to what was left of the prepared rations. He watched the others move about camp as he ate, packing and sorting belongings into neat stacks. When he was finished Erianth melted some snow to make him hot water, which he used to wash his dishes. He couldn’t help but be intrigued as he watched her work; he hadn’t seen someone use magic up close before, and never for such mundane purposes. Preparing water for drinking, drying tents and blankets, laying barriers on the ground to keep supplies from being wet or frozen until they were packed onto the horses. Everything she did with her magic seemed so useful, he had a hard time reconciling it with the tales of dangerous magic the Chantry had taught him all his life. He was securing the last of the supplies to the horses when Erianth found him again.

“Are you warm enough?” she asked, reaching out to hold things in place while he tightened the final knots.

“I will admit, I don’t feel as though I will ever be warm enough. I’m not sure how anyone can tolerate this kind of bone-chilling weather.”

“You wound my cold Fereldan heart.” She laughed, giving him a quick wink. “Here,” she unclasped her cloak, swinging it around her shoulders and holding it out to him. “Give me yours.”

He hesitated a moment, unwilling to accept her taking on the burden of his poor planning.

“Come, everyone is ready to go. If we don’t switch now you will have a long, cold walk to the next town. Unless you enjoy torturing yourself this way?” She tipped her head to one side, the short hair over her eyes sliding across her brow.

With a sigh, he unhooked the clasp on his cloak and handed it to her, taking hers in return. She flashed him a winning grin and made her way to where Lucion was waiting, settling Falke's cloak around her shoulders as she went. He stood in place, watching her walk away until the cold forced him to remember what he was meant to be doing. He donned the soft blue cloak she had left him, which fit him surprisingly well considering their differences in size. He closed the clasp, pulling the front edges together as best he could. He felt warmer almost immediately, the sensation reminding him of Erianth’s warming spell the night before. He inhaled deeply at the feeling, inadvertently filling his nostrils with the scent of her. The earthy smell of herbs mixed with sweet floral notes of soap, lying over a base of something sharper, a familiar smell he couldn't quite place.

“Wearing each other’s clothes already?” Corbett walked up, grabbing the lead on the second horse.

“Shut up,” Falke replied, grabbing the lead of his own horse.

“Touchy.”

Corbett’s sly grin didn’t fade in the slightest, and Falke forced himself to look away. Erianth was still chatting with Lucion, who had reached out to flip the edge of Falke’s cloak in a questioning manner. The motion made her laugh and shake her head as she pulled the hood up, playfully punching Lucion in the bicep to complete the motion. Falke heard Corbett snicker. He steadfastly refused to let the man get to him, and instead pulled up the hood on his own cloak. He was warm and Erianth was kind, and that was the end of it. It wasn’t anyone’s fault they were sharing a tent, and while it made him uncomfortable he wasn’t going to take it out on the one person who had been nicer to him than he felt he deserved. He would find a way to repay her kindness, and that would be the end of it. It was with that thought in mind that he began the trek to the next town.

***

The small party walked most of the day, eating their supplied lunch rations while on the move. It was a quiet trip for Falke, since he had no interest in attempting conversation with Corbett. The silence from his fellow Warden proved the feeling was mutual. Not long before the town of Stoppington came into view, he noticed Erianth unsheath her staff, flipping it over and resecuring it so the tell-tale signs of a mage’s weapon were concealed under her cloak. He was curious about her motivations, but none of the other Wardens seemed to care, and so he kept his questions to himself. Their small group tightened ranks upon entering town, heading to an inn recommended by one of the men minding the gate.

They made quick work of distributing belongings while Lucion paid for everyone’s rooms.  Falke was in the middle of unpacking his things when a knock sounded at his door. Upon opening it, he found Warden Erianth waiting in the hallway, still wearing his cloak.

“Hello,” she said, giving him a small smile. “I have a few things I’d like to pick up while we’re here, and Lucion thought you might as well, so he thought it best we go together.”

“Certainly. Give me a moment to gather my things?”

She nodded, waiting in the hallway while he left the door open and turned back to his room. He gathered his coin purse and the soft blue cloak she had lent him, doing some quick mental math to figure out just how much he had to spend.

“All set?” she asked as he joined her in the hall.

It was his turn to nod, offering her back the cloak she had let him borrow. She undid the clasp at her throat, handing his cloak to him as she retrieved her own.

“I trust this served you well?” She closed the silver clasp and settled the fabric around her shoulders, pulling her long braid out to lay along her spine.

He made a conscious effort to direct his gaze to something other than her, choosing instead to study the places where the walls met the floor.  “It did - I was very warm. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Erianth spoke to the barkeep, getting information about which shops to avoid and directions to those who would most likely sell the items they were after. Once they had a good idea about where to head, they set off together.

“I notice you didn’t bring your staff,” he commented, stepping slightly behind Erianth to avoid colliding with a woman hurrying down the street.

“You are correct,” she replied evenly. “Mages can very easily inspire fear in people, so it’s best not to flaunt such abilities if it can be avoided.”

“So, wearing your weapon upside down…”

“Exactly. I do what I can to blend in as much as possible. It’s hard enough being an elf publically; I don’t want to add the fear of magic on top of it.”

“Do you think it is wise to go about unarmed in a strange city?” He lightly brushed his fingers across the hilt of his sword, the feel of the metal reassuring to him.

She turned to face him so abruptly that he barely caught himself before crashing into her.

“I am never unarmed, Warden Falke.” She looked at him with a level gaze, enough that he felt a bit taken aback.

He wasn’t quite sure what to say in response, and they walked the rest of the way to the market in silence. He couldn’t stop thinking about what she had said, the difficulty she faced daily simply because of what she was. The unfairness of it bothered him more than he cared to admit.

“The first shop we need should be just ahead.”

The sound of her voice pulled him from his thoughts, setting his focus back on her. He followed her through the doorway, looking around him at the stacks of crates and rough-spun bundles. A weathered old man sat behind the counter, eyeing them both as they approached.

“Something I can help ye with?” he said, sitting up slightly.

“We need some warm clothes, perhaps a lined cloak, and anything else you may have to keep my companion comfortable while traveling through Ferelden.”

“Outsiders, eh?” The man stood up, seeming much less feeble than he had just a few minutes ago.

Falke moved closer to Erianth, who had placed herself at the counter.

“Not outsiders,” she replied. “I’m born and bred Fereldan, same as you. We’re here to protect Fereldan lands and Fereldan people; our people.” She stressed her final statement, leaning into the counter. “I’m also here to spend good Fereldan coin, if you’d get on with it.”

The man grumbled something Falke couldn’t understand before moving away and opening the lids on some crates stacked nearby. One by one he started stacking items along the counter, stating each as he placed it down. _Long underwear, woolen socks, heavy linen inner layers -_ on and on the man went. Falke wondered absently if he’d even be able to pack half of what was on offer.

“Alright.” Erianth was looking at him expectantly. “Find everything that will fit you, and we’ll start with that.” She was shifting items around, running her hands over different pieces.  

“Do you have these in my size as well?” she called, holding up a pair of woolen socks. More grumbling from the shopkeep, while Falke began sorting through items.

“Here,” she held out a cloak. “Try this on.”

He took it from her, turning it over in his hands. It was made of fine wool and lined with soft fur. He held the corners and twisted the material around himself, closing the clasp and settling the fabric.

“It’s nice.” She ran her fingers down the cloak, following the line of his arm. “You won’t have any trouble staying warm in this.”

“It is quite fine.” He leaned a bit closer to her, dropping his voice just above a whisper. “How much is all of this going to cost?”

She pulled back a bit, catching his eyes with her own.

“Don’t worry about money. I can’t expect you to watch my back when you’re freezing and miserable, and I can’t continue to keep you warm at my own expense. Getting you the gear you need is the best solution.”

“You say don’t worry, but where does this money come from?” He felt ill at the prospect of her paying for all of these items, knowing it would likely take him years to pay her back, if he could at all. They had moved further from the counter, and he was still trying to keep his voice low. “Is it yours?”

“I didn’t steal it from anyone, if that’s what you’re insinuating. Pointy ears don’t make me a thief.” Her tone was scathing, her expression arranged into a mask of indifference.

“I would never imply that they did,” he replied, frustration causing him to raise his voice.  He sighed, his thoughts thrown off track by her accusation. Falke glanced back to the counter, watching the shopkeep as he tried to pretend he wasn’t listening to every word they said.

“Anders are taught to be self-sufficient. It’s a point of pride among my people to be able to care for oneself, through hard work or honest trade.”

“What happens to those who can’t? Do you leave them to fend for themselves? Is pride more important than dignity in the Anderfels?”

“That’s unfair.”  
  
“It seems as though that’s what you’re saying. That you can’t accept my help because it would wound your sense of Ander pride?”

She crossed her arms and walked away from him, toward the counter. She said something to the man still standing behind it, who was looking from Erianth to Falke and back again.

“If you’re concerned about cost, buy what you feel is right and leave the rest. I have some other shopping I need to get done.” She pushed away from the counter, crossing the room with long strides. She paused just before the door, turning back to face him, still standing there in the unpurchased cloak. “I trust you can find your way back to the inn from here?”

He nodded, unsure if she seriously meant to leave without him. “You will be alright on your own?” He had reservations about leaving her alone in a town she was unfamiliar with, even if he currently wanted nothing to do with her. “You had mentioned Lucion wanting us to stay together.”

She waved a hand dismissively, reaching back to place her opposite hand on the door. “That was more for your benefit than mine. As long as you leave here and go straight back to the inn, you’ll be fine.”

He objected to her suggestion that he needed to be supervised, but she was out the door before he had a chance to say so. Sighing, he returned to the counter to finalize his purchases.

“Found yourself a real Fereldan woman, have ye boy?” the shopkeeper beamed. “Strong will on that one, yessir. She’ll take care of you though, never doubt it. A good, loyal Fereldan woman. Couldn’t ask for none better.” He continued to extol the virtues of Good Fereldan Women as he wrapped Falke’s purchases, but Falke had stopped paying attention. Instead he gazed at the door, wondering where his fellow Warden had gone, and if she was truly alright. 

***

He didn’t see her again that night, though he did notice a young boy sitting against the wall outside her door next to a decent sized stack of parcels. That same boy was slumped over asleep on the parcels when Falke left his room the next morning.

He tried not to wonder where she had been, instead heading down to break his fast in the common room. Settling at a table with Baryn, Livia, and Corbett, he filled his plate with sausages, oat cakes, and eggs.

“Good morning Warden Falke,” Livia crooned, resting her elbows on the table and leaning toward him with her hands together under her chin.

Corbett tried to hide his snicker behind his cup, while Baryn gave all three of them dirty looks.

“Sleep well?” Livia asked, her tone dripping with false concern.

“Has something happened?” He disliked being the only person who obviously wasn’t in on something, and wanted her to make her point so he could eat in peace.

“After she returned from the market, Eria had a meeting with Lucion.” Baryn had turned her gaze on him, speaking coolly. “None of us have seen her since she left his room last night.”

Corbett thumped his cup down on the table, causing all three Wardens to look. “I say she’s fine,” he said, tipping his chair back on two legs. “It’s not like she can’t look after herself.”

“We should look for her.” Everyone’s attention turned to Falke, who had pushed his plate away. “What if something’s happened and she needs help?”

“Eat your breakfast, Hero.” Corbett laughed. “She’s not only fine, but nearby. Sharpen those Warden senses, eh?”

He opened his mouth to protest, but the words died on his tongue. The sound of Lucion clearing his throat as he reached the common room landing was enough to draw the attention of not only the Wardens, but several others as well.

“Warden Falke.” Lucion strolled to the table, pinning Falke with his gaze. “If you would be so kind to meet with me after you’ve broken your fast, I have some things to go over with you.”

Falke nodded, and Lucion returned the gesture. A quiet ‘hello’ to the rest of the Wardens, and Lucion returned to his room without another word.

He ate his meal quickly, while the other Wardens sat in silence. None of them said anything to him as he stood, though Baryn watched him until he was out of her sight, up the stairs and down the hall. Lucion’s room was at the far end, and as he passed Falke noticed the errand boy who was still sleeping outside Erianth’s doorway. As close by as Corbett claimed she was, it seemed selfish of her to let the lad spend such an uncomfortable night in anticipation of her return. He wondered if the boy had parents, a family who worried when he stayed away all night. His thoughts carried him down the hallway, to knock at Lucion’s door and wait while he pondered.

“Warden Falke, good of you to come. Please,” he said, stepping aside and gesturing to his room. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Falke stepped inside, his eyes sweeping the room for somewhere to go. The small table and chairs near the fireplace seemed a good choice, and Lucion joined him there.

“Are you settling in well enough?” Lucion set two cups of water on the table before claiming the second chair.

“I believe so Ser,” Falke replied.

“Lucion, please. No need for such formalities, especially not in this group.” He shook his head, took a swallow of water. “Did you find everything you needed at the markets yesterday?”

“I did,” he answered slowly. “Warden Erianth was a great help; her insight and opinions were instrumental in the decision-making process.”

“So you have everything you need now, yes?”

Falke was aware he was being led into revealing what happened yesterday, and that Lucion already knew. After Erianth left him in the markets she must have come straight back here and told Lucion everything. The thought that she was attempting to side-step their agreement was vexing, but the fact that she was doing it by tattling on him was nearly unbearable. He took a breath to steady himself while putting together a reply.

“I have enough to get by, Ser - Lucion,” he corrected quickly.

“Enough to be comfortable?”

He could feel his cheeks burning, and he hated it. He turned his face toward the floor, hoping his embarrassment didn’t show.

“I didn’t ask you here to shame you, Warden Falke.” Lucion rose from the table, pacing a short path in the center of the room. “This mission is a dangerous one, and I need everyone at their best. I had thought sending you with her would be good for you both. In the end you have each proven to be too headstrong, which is something I’ll need to watch and consider in the field.” Lucion stopped next to the chair, causing Falke to look up at him.

“Your life is not the only one at stake here, Warden. The innocents of Ferelden will suffer for every misstep we take. While the Archdemon may be dead, the darkspawn still terrorize the land, and it is our duty as Wardens to dispatch as many as possible. If any of us are lacking, it will only hurt our chances.”

“I understand.”

“Do you? Wardens depend on each other for everything. When you are surrounded by darkspawn, your fellow Wardens are there to guard your back. When you feel alone, the Wardens are your family. Whatever one does to better themself, it betters us all.”

Lucion walked over to a neatly filled pack sitting by the door. He lifted it, motioning for Falke to come and take it.

“The next time a fellow Warden offers you help,” he opened the door, standing back to allow Falke the opportunity to leave. “Accept it.”


End file.
